Melvin Lum’s Story

Mel was born in Oakland May 1954 into a first generation immigrant family. His father was a butcher, his mom a seamstress. His dad was a gifted gardener, took care of everything and Mom was the best cook I ever met. Mel was the middle child of three. His brother, Edward, was five years his senior and his sister, Lisa, five years his junior.

He shared many vignettes of his happy childhood. Early on were indications of a fun-loving mischievous rascal:

He once “introduced” a Jerusalem beetle under the bathroom door as his sibling sat on the toilet. (Please visualize lots of screaming.)

He routinely disassembled toys to see how they worked often by blowing them up in the backyard and filming the event. Always interested in how things worked, he carefully observed his father and the steps involved in driving. Alone, as a child, he backed the car out of the driveway. I think that event resulted in a slight collision, but no one was hurt.

But there were examples of a gentle generous little boy:

He made up for the Jerusalem beetle incident by buying his sister an easy-bake oven. Growing up with little spending money, he still shared his fast food Pine Cone chicken with a little boy he didn’t know well who really wanted a bite. He took good care of a little parakeet his father trained for him, as well as mice, chipmunks and hamsters. Mel had a sixth sense of what little animals needed.

How We Met

I met Mel in an elevator at UC Berkeley’s Evans Hall. It was 1979. I was studying in optometry school and Mel was a new Hayward firefighter studying stacks of index cards with street directions of Hayward. He asked me to a Piedmont fireman’s retirement dinner. We dated for a few months and then lost touch, or so I thought. While practicing in the Embarcadero center, I received an exquisite floral arrangement from “a friend.” I still remember the florist was Fiordella; their arrangements were so artistic. A few years later I received another one from the same mysterious friend wishing me well.

Fast forward to 1988, Mel came to the office for an eye exam. He had just been promoted to captain at Hayward fire. He asked me out to dinner and forgot his VISA card when it came time to pay, so I used mine. Immediately, he drove to the ATM and promptly paid me back. Looking back, I should’ve married him right then and there. He was real, made mistakes, rectified them, was generous, trustworthy and displayed class that was akin to character and integrity.

The Red-Brick Church

I have to interject a story Mel told me that occurred before we met. One day, discouraged, he stood in front of a very old red brick San Francisco church that predated the 1906 earthquake. Not having grown up in church, he awkwardly prayed to God to send someone to him with whom to share his life. Immediately he felt something like electricity coursed through him. He felt something. Those of you who know me, know that I am a church aficionado. There are many churches in an old city like San Francisco. I was like a kid in a candy store as I explored and considered so many different church venues for the wedding. Unbeknownst to me I chose the very same church where Mel had prayed. I never knew about his story till well after the wedding. We got married in that old red brick church in 1993.

Family

Before we got married in 1993, Mel said, “We should have kids because we have good values and could make this world a better place.” I was a bit surprised at his wisdom and replied with something dopey like, “Did you rehearse that?” But we were lucky to have two children as I was already 37. Mel and I brought to parenthood different life skills. He knew the importance of sports, nature, scouting and that team work added up to more than the sum of the parts. I planned the extra curricular, cultural and enrichment activities and we started a college fund when they were zero. We were also lucky owing to Mel’s profession to be around for the kids. I worked when Mel was off duty, sort of an anti-fireman’s schedule. Therefore one parent was ever present to drive, attend, assist or to yell at the kids.

Hayward Fire

I am indebted to the members of Hayward fire who were literally his brothers in arms. They had each others backs during the Loma Prieta earthquake, the devastating Oakland fire and worked creatively and synergistically. I recall the runaway diesel engine with the broken shut down lever incident. You could not put water on it. Mel took off his turnout coat and stuffed it into the air intake and thus suffocated it. The level of self sacrifice, sans sleep, sans concern for personal safety is what this department is all about. Mel saw a lot of pathos and tragedy and was impelled to call me afterwards if the incident involved a child. He just wanted to make sure that I and the kids were safe. He loved the fire service. Even during this fatal illness, Mel stated he would never have traded his time with Hayward fire.

The Last Years

Fast forward to 2025: Mel and I, both retired, settled into a congruent life like two coherent wavelengths of light. We were gearing up for the massive “Hail Mary” remodel when he fell sick. But Mel left me “prizes” in the relationships I have with my three children (the plus one is Godwin, Andrea’s husband) and we even have a stout little grandson, Aiden. Andrea and Godwin immediately moved home from NY upon hearing of his illness. Evan spent every available moment by Dad’s side during his illness and now by mine afterward. We take good care of each other.

Mel was never one for lots of written words although he was generous with the spoken ones. Last August he gave me such a significant birthday card that I took pictures of it.

And yes, it was Mel who anonymously sent the Fiordella flowers so many years ago. And no, I was the lucky one in this marriage. And yes, we will meet again and I can apologize for laughing so hard when I read the playboy/model part.